Mornings
by KateToast
Summary: James had never been a morning person... Suliet.


**A/N:** Loved Juliet and James from the moment they drank rum on the beach and watched the sub sink. So much must've happened in those 3 years in the Initiative, and I like to think it included something like this.

**XXX**

James had never been a morning person. As a boy on school days he'd hit the alarm snooze button until his uncle busted into the room hollering for him to get out of bed and get ready. Mornings did not even exist on weekends; he usually slept through the Saturday cartoons until he was finally forced up to do chores.

As he got older, the time considered "morning" was still night for him (if he hadn't rested his head to sleep yet the day wasn't over), whether he was out partying with girls, making trouble with friends, or reading the most recent books he'd gotten from the library. (James hated to admit he loved to read.)

He didn't get much sleep while running cons, always awake thinking about his next move, his next witty line, his next target. Mornings were spent catching up on the rest he could, usually after he'd left his latest conquest and before he had to become charming, awe-shucks-you-weren't-supposed-to-see-this-money Sawyer again.

Sometimes when he lay down he could pretend he was a little kid again and his mother was sitting by his bed, brushing the hair from his face. But then James would grow angry, remembering what happened to her, to his father, to his _family_, and he'd hop up and start planning a new con, or look into the leads he'd gotten towards finding _him_.

On the island, after the plane crash, James still disliked mornings. He'd thought a perk of being stranded on an island with nothing much to do would mean sleeping in until noon like he had as a kid, but that wasn't to be. There was always some drama to argue loudly about, or someone crying, or flipping out, or heading off on a dangerous mission. (It seemed most of the time he somehow got involved, which eventually he had to get used to.)

As the island got more and more mysterious and strange, mornings became just another time of the day, a mark that he'd made it through the hours of darkness despite the weird things creeping in the jungle. Time becomes meaningless when you're stuck on an island and have nowhere to be at any certain point.

After days spent awake with little chance for reprieve between all the time-traveling, Others-dodging, and bloody noses, James reveled in passing out and wasting a whole morning and afternoon asleep in the Dharma Barracks, his companions doing the same.

Settling into the Initiative was an odd experience after months spent roughing it under tarps on the sand, what with their use of comfy beds and bright curtains and all those home furnishings James hadn't thought he was going to see again. The view wasn't as good as his abode on the beach, but he figured he could sacrifice the ocean front property for a sturdy roof over his head and the promise of real, hot meals and refreshing showers.

He felt a purpose when he woke up each morning, thanks to his job assignment. That didn't mean it was an easy task to get out of bed; most days he, Jin and Miles grumbled to each other over cups of coffee as the sun was rising, preparing themselves for a day of security detail. As they headed off in one of the bright blue vans, he wondered if he'd _ever_ start liking and appreciating mornings like so many others did.

The first night James and Juliet spend together is both surprising and unsurprising. Surprising, in how natural it is, how easily he loses himself in her blue eyes and blonde hair and totally assured personality, how quickly he forgets about the one that got away. (He's starting to think she didn't get away, so much as they weren't right for each other. It never felt like _this_ with her.)

Unsurprising, in that it actually _happens_, since Miles has been talking James' ear off for months asking when the two of them were finally going to release their boiling sexual tension, a fact James himself could not (and did not actually want to) deny.

The morning after the first night, James wakes up early, just as the sun is beginning to peek through the window, filtering in past those frilly drapes. Juliet is nestled against him, her back to his chest, his arms around her, her blonde hair tickling his neck. He knows it's cliché to even think, but the colors of dawn dance on her pale skin and he wants to write a damn poem about this moment or something.

He's still groggy, his eyes heavy, but the sight of her makes a smile appear on his scruffy face, and he just has to lean down and kiss her bare shoulder. He thinks he sees the beginning of her trademark smirk and for some reason it makes him feel elated.

After a few moments of silence, Juliet slowly turns so they are face to face. She sports a lazy grin as she blinks at him. "Hey," she whispers, her legs tangling up with his under the sheet.

"Hey yourself," James replies, equally as quiet, as if speaking any louder will wake all of Dharma.

After a small yawn she looks at him again. "James, were you watching me sleep?" she asks, amused and accusing.

He rolls his eyes for show and pulls her in tighter so there's no space between them. "No way, Blondie," he drawls, playful but mock serious. "I was just enjoyin' my mornin'."

"Well, don't let me interrupt then." She is already kissing his neck by the last word.

He grins and rolls them so that he's pinned her down. "I think I can make an exception this one time."

Her hearty laugh reaches every corner of the room, and James thinks he can really start to like mornings.

**XXX**


End file.
